T For Tony
by KassandraScarlett
Summary: our soul mark is the first letter of your soulmate's name. Stephen has an A. But he's in love with Tony. Cue anxiety, jealousy, angst. (cross-posted on AO3)


**Tumblr prompt: soulmate au where the first letter of the name of your soulmate is marked on you. stephen has a letter "A" on him. stephen meets and knows tony as "Tony" and not, "Anthony". as he slowly falls in love, he's hella in denial and starts fighting with himself because "he is not my soulmate, why bother?"**

* * *

In a world where people got their mark only when they were in the vicinity of their soulmate for the first time, Stephen Strange got his when he was twenty two and attending a conference for breakthroughs in surgical technology. As one of the most accomplished neurosurgeons in the country, it had been a good opportunity for him to meet others who had the same interests. Or it would have been if there had been a single person of his caliber, or at the very least, interesting enough to hold his attention.

But nope. If anything, most of the guests seemed to be indignant and insulted that someone so young could be just as accomplished and twice as smart as them. Although, to be fair, Stephen had deliberately insulted a couple of them.

"Gets trying, doesn't it?"

Stephen started, looking up from his scotch to see a very attractive man, maybe a couple years older than him, smirking at him over the rim of his own martini. "What?"

"Having to prove how much smarter you are," the guy sighed, just as Stephen felt a slight burn over his chest.

"Because, you would know so much about that," he snarked, ignoring the urge to scratch at the stinging sensation.

The man, who seemed to be a little familiar, twisted his full lips in a frown, and lifted a hand to massage the side of his neck. "Buddy, I've been dealing with that shit since I was four."

"What are you, some sort of mini-Einstein?" Stephen snorted.

The man raised his glass in a toast. "You could say that." He sounded amused and Stephen didn't like it. He felt like he was missing something.

But before he could think about it, an older, balding man appeared to grab the stranger by his elbow, whispering furiously in his ears. The guy sighed, rolled his eyes, and tipped his drink back in one swallow ( _no, Stephen did not track the movement of his throat_ ). "Well, that's my cue. See ya later, sweetcheeks."

Stephen didn't get a chance to even react to the nickname before the man disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, though, he wanted to slap himself for stupidity, as the guy strutted onstage with a bright grin. Because, which self-respecting person wouldn't recognize Tony Stark? Especially, since it was his breakthrough that had advanced medical technology, which, in turn had prompted this conference.

On stage, Stark was cracking jokes and flirting shamelessly with the audience. He winked in his direction and Stephen felt a light blush stain his cheeks, which was ridiculous, because a) the man was reputable for being utterly obnoxious and Stephen wanted nothing to do with an ego as big as his own and b) it's not like Stark was looking at him specifically.

He tried to avoid the man for the rest of the night, until he finally got home and forgot about him completely. Instead, it was the vivid black **'A'** stamped just over his heart, that occupied his thoughts.

* * *

As usual, Stephen ignored his soul mark as he got dressed. It hurt to look at it. Eighteen years since the night of the conference he'd gotten it, and he still hadn't found them. Was it a mistake? Had they died or something? Or did they simply not want him? Not that Stephen could blame them if that was the case. Sorcerer Supreme and Avenger or not, he was still a massive asshole with an ego to boot.

"STEPHEN!"

His head shaking almost instantly, Stephen made his way to the main foyer, where Tony Stark was standing with his hands on his hips, his expression one of annoyance.

"Yes, Tony?" Stephen asked politely. His gaze landed on the **'S'** , unmissable against the skin of his neck, but only for a second, before sliding back up to meet whiskey gold eyes glaring at him.

"Tell Wong to stop stealing my kid," Tony groused. "I swear, if I hear Peter talk about how cool magic is one more time, I will strangle that Beyonce loving wizard. Or you."

"Jealous, Stark?" Stephen teased, opening up a portal to the UN building, where they were holding the meeting to discuss new potential members.

Tony scowled. "No!"

Stephen only chuckled, allowing himself to feel amusement, until he caught the look on Tony's face. It was gratified, hopeful... And painful to see.

Stephen schooled his face into something more closed off, fake, and watched as Tony reacted by pursing his lips in hurt. Neither of them said another word until they reached the conference room.

* * *

The problem with Tony's feelings for Stephen was mainly that, from his point of view, it was correct. Tony's mark was an **S** , so it made sense that he would consider Stephen. But soulmates were always mutual. And Stephen's mark was an **A**. Not a **T**. And he didn't know how to break it to him. Not after everything he'd put the man through on Titan _(honestly, it was a wonder Tony even wanted to talk to him, after Stephen pulled that stunt with the Time Stone)._

It wasn't as if Stephen had never considered what a relationship with Tony would be like. Because he had. Many times. Usually in moments like these, when Tony was gleefully getting on Fury's nerves, inciting equal glances of fondness and irritation from everyone around the table, including him.

Stephen knew that Tony felt a certain security around him. He himself felt a sense of kinship with the engineer. They were so oddly similar, yet obviously different, both drawing on each others humour and wit. Stephen knew that it would be easy as breathing with Tony.

But he also knew that it would never be right. It just wouldn't.

Now if only he could convince his heart of the same. If only he could fall _out_ of love with Tony.

* * *

Stephen hadn't exactly planned on it. Heck, he hadn't even realized it until Titan. Nearly three years of working together, helping each other with PTSD and anxiety and nightmares, and he hadn't noticed how much in love he was. Not until he'd watched Thanos run a blade through Tony's stomach. Not until he'd felt gut-wrenching pain at the thought of Tony dying.

There hadn't been time to ponder his epiphany then. He'd given up the Stone, just as he'd planned; had watched Tony hold Peter's body crumbling to dust; had offered his own apologies. The time in the Soul World had been spent planning and strategizing with the others.

But then, they'd returned. And Tony, right after he was done checking over Peter, had launched into Stephen's arms and kissed him, hard and desperate. For five blissful seconds, Stephen thought he'd died and gone to heaven. Then Tony stepped back, mumbling, "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I just- I'm glad you're okay."

Stephen had nodded numbly, watching as Tony's face seemed to fall further when he said, "It's alright. Good job figuring out the plan." And all he could think of was the lingering feel of Tony's lips on his, and he'd thought, _"Oh shit."_

* * *

"Well, for a supposedly supreme sorcerer, you're not very bright," Loki drawled, his knives catching the light as he twirled them around his fingers.

Stephen scoffed. "Sure, I'm not. But, then a god should know better than fall into the same trap twice."

The mage bared his teeth and probably would have attacked him right then. Thankfully, the rest of the team, who'd been watching the argument with breathless anticipation, snapped out of it and Thor placed a heavy hand on Loki's shoulder.

"That's enough, brother," he warned, though he was laughing.

Tony took hold of Stephen's elbow. "You come with me, Dumbledore."

Stephen let himself be led down to the labs. "That man has no regard for the Mystic Arts," he growled.

"Well, his brother doesn't have any for lawn maintenance. Probably runs in the family."

"You can't compare lawn maintenance to sorcery, Tony!" Stephen complained.

The genius smiled mischievously. "No?" He asked, feigning confusion. "How about gardening? That work better?"

Stephen narrowed his eyes at him. "Don't you dare start, too," he warned.

Tony's grin grew. "Well, maybe outdoors isn't really your thing. Interior design might be the best metaphor-"

Bored with the lack of attention, Levi, without warning, zipped from Stephen's shoulders and wrapped around Tony's legs, causing him to trip. Stephen hurried to catch him, but the Cloak pulled on his ankles as well, and he ended up falling too.

"Well, of all the times I've pictured you on top of me, this isn't how I imagined it would happen," Tony joked, but the underlying nervousness rang clear as a bell.

Stephen felt frozen. Tony's body was stretched out beneath him and he could feel every beat of his heart, every muscle, every rise and fall of his chest. He could feel his growing arousal and he knew Tony could feel his. So why the fuck wasn't he moving away?

"Stephen?" Tony said his name softly and Stephen met his gaze in desperation.

"Tony, I can't- I'm- I don't..." Why couldn't he complete any of his sentences?

"Um, Tony?"

At the sound of Captain America's voice, Stephen scrambled off Tony. Levi settled around him immediately and Tony got up as well, while Rogers carefully avoided looking both of them in the eye.

An awkward silence fell briefly until Tony clapped his hands. "Alright, what's up, Cap?"

"We're leaving in a few moments," Rogers said. "Clint said you had some arrows for him?"

"Right-o, Cap-o. Follow me."

He took Rogers to the table where there was a quiver full of purple-tipped arrows with fletchings of different colours. Stephen took a minute to regain his composure, then looked up. He immediately wished he hadn't. Tony was explaining the colour coding to Rogers, his hands waving around with his usual flair, and the taller man was smiling down at him fondly, a twinkle in his blue eyes as he watched and nodded along.

Stephen wasn't prepared for the onslaught of jealousy that filled him at the sight. But he wanted nothing more than to tear Rogers away from Tony and kiss the latter senseless. It didn't help that Tony's mark was so clearly visible. The curved 'S' seemed to be mocking Stephen, taunting him with the possibilities. It also didn't help that Rogers' name began with the same letter. For fuck's sake, his full name was Steven!

Without a word, he created a portal to the Sanctum and stepped through. He ignored the way his own mark stung under his tunic, ignored the way it felt like his heart was being burned out of him.

* * *

In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have told Tony about his injury. He'd known how the man would react. But Tony had been wheedling him for five minutes and it was hard to deny him anything when you knew he wanted it, and when you didn't know, it got harder. So Stephen had slipped up and mentioned the stab wound from the one knife that the Cloak had failed to block.

And Tony had arrived at the Sanctum with the single intention of seeing him. Stephen would rather die than admit how good it felt to have him there, even though he wasn't really hurt too badly.

"Seriously, you need to see if there are any spells that might shield you from actual physical attacks," Tony grumbled.

Stephen rolled his eyes from where he was lying on the couch. "Sure, Tony," he muttered compliantly.

Tony frowned. "You can't depend on the Cloak to protect you from every single thing, Stephen."

"Now you sound like Wong," Stephen sighed, starting to sit up. "But fine, I guess you're right, I should work on some self-defence. Happy now?"

Tony didn't answer. He seemed to have frozen. For two seconds, Stephen was confused. Then he remembered, he'd taken his shirt off for Wong to bandage him, then hadn't bothered to put it back on when he left, just let Levi stretch over him. Now, as he sat up, Levi had twirled away, leaving his chest bare. And Tony was staring at his mark.

"Tony?" Stephen asked hesitantly.

"You could have told me," he said, his teeth clenched.

"I didn't how."

Tony shut his eyes. "I should have realized," he whispered. "Should have known that's why you didn't- why you never..."

"Tony, I'm sorry." His voice was trembling, Stephen realized. And there was a prickling in his eyes. "I just- I didn't want to hurt you."

Tony shook his head in small rapid movements. "I don't blame you," he assured in a strangled voice. There was an odd hitch in his breath, and when he opened his eyes, they were shining with tears. "I'm- I'm sorry if- if I ever made you uncomfortable."

"Tony, please-"

"I'm gonna go. Get well soon, Stephen." He was up and out before Stephen could say another word.

He heard the door close and it felt a lot like finality. He should have been relieved. Tony wouldn't flirt with him anymore, wouldn't be vying for his attention, wouldn't devote his free time to hanging around the Sanctum. The problem? Stephen felt a cold emptiness at losing that camaraderie that they'd built.

* * *

"What are you doing here, Peter?" Stephen sighed. He'd been meditating and when he came back down, he found Spiderman with a laptop open in front of him and a notebook in his hand.

"I am doing my homework."

"Why aren't you doing it in the Compound line everyday?"

"Because we're supposed to be writing an article on our hero and I don't want Mr Stark to know I'm writing about him until I'm done with it," Peter answered, then patted the seat next to him. "You can help me with the factual research."

Having nothing better to do, Stephen took the laptop and began browsing, pretending it didn't hurt to see the various pictures of Tony, in the armour, in a three-piece suit, kissing Pepper at a gala years ago (he ignored that one as best as he could).

It wasn't until he opened up the Wikipedia page that he saw it.

 ** _"Tony Stark, born as Anthony Edward Stark, (May 27, 1973- ), to Howard Stark and Maria Carbonell Stark..."_**

Anthony. _Anthony_. **ANTHONY**.

"Doc?"

Stephen looked at Peter's concerned face. His heart was beating fast, but he suddenly felt an odd sense of peace. "Anthony," he pronounced the word carefully.

"Yeah, I know, that's his full name."

Stephen stood up abruptly. Ignoring Peter's confused questions, he opened a portal into the common room of the Avengers Compound. Tony was sitting on the single couch. He was talking, but faltered when Stephen stepped through.

"I'm a fucking idiot," he announced. Barely hearing Wilson's muttered, "Obviously," he knelt in front of his soulmate, cradled his face in his hands, and kissed him soundly.

Tony's lips tasted of coffee and coconut and he smelled of metal and fire and grease. Stephen felt euphoric as Tony shuddered, his tongue flicking at his lips with practiced ease.

When they broke apart, it was because Tony pulled away. "What brought this on?" He asked, trying to hide his nervousness and confusion.

" _Anthony_."

Tony nodded slowly. "Yes. That's my name."

Stephen nodded too. "Yeah, it is. Your name's Anthony," he agreed happily. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was glad the rest of the team had left them alone. "Not _Tony_ , _Anthony_. And it starts with an **A**."

Tony's expression flitted from confused to realization to bemusement. "You didn't know my name was Anthony?" He questioned, a little incredulously.

"No. Just found out on Wiki. Why did you never tell me?"

Tony sighed. "I thought you knew. I'd never seen your mark before, but I was so sure it would be me, because I KNEW you were mine. But you never seemed interested and I couldn't understand why. Then I saw the mark that day and..."

"And you thought I was disappointed," Stephen realized. "You thought I didn't want you."

The silence was answer enough.

Stephen stroked Tony's face, making him look at him. Tony's eyes, just like always, were a unique amalgam of too dark and too bright. Right now, they were focused on him and Stephen felt the urge to kiss him again.

So he did.

"I love you, Anthony," he murmured, barely bothering to break the kiss. "I love you, you idiot."

"I'm the idiot? You're the one didn't know my name after three years of knowing me." Tony smiled fondly at him. "But I love you too. Always have."

* * *

Peter told the story during the wedding and took the credit. Harley complained that he hadn't been around for the good stuff.


End file.
